


Prodigal's Return

by PennyLane



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-06
Updated: 2013-07-06
Packaged: 2017-12-17 21:18:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/872060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PennyLane/pseuds/PennyLane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Epilogue to 'The Curse'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prodigal's Return

 

Colonel Jack O'Neill was only too aware of the silence that had existed between him and his companion ever since they left Minnesota. Teal'c didn't have to say a word to register disapproval; it rolled off him in big honkin' waves. It was all in how he lifted his chin and tilted his nose disdainfully and how the unlucky recipient was treated to a narrow-eyed glare. That had been Jack's fate ever since they had been summoned back to Colorado. It was still his lot in life now that they were in Cairo on the way to the hotel to pick up the three amigos: Carter, Fraiser, and one slightly damaged linguist.

 

O'Neill sighed as he stared out at the passing cityscape from the back of the vehicle driven by the Air Force arranged driver. He had already admitted to himself ripping out the cell phone batteries so he and Teal'c wouldn't get any more phone calls at the cabin was a pretty childish thing to do. But they were on _vacation_. The whole point of a vacation was to get away from everything and have some _fun_. How were you supposed to do that if a linguist - who was supposed to be safe and sound on his own vacation - was calling every half hour for help on a translation? As he told Teal'c - oh, about fifty times or so since they left Minnesota - he didn't _know_ Daniel had found a brand new Goa'uld to play with, and that he and Carter and Fraiser were playing with it in Egypt. The team was supposed to be on a goddamned _vacation_. (Although why Daniel was at the SGC working on translations instead of using the time for a real vacation was a question he hadn't asked himself in Minnesota. It had only begun gnawing at him on the long flight to Cairo.)

 

But all the rationalizing in the world didn't change the fact half his team had been in danger while he'd been off fishing, cut off from all communication by his own choice. That was something else that had begun chewing away at his conscience: Had he really needed a vacation badly enough to justify tossing away his own form of communication with the SGC and his team? The answer to that was a resounding 'no'. So why had he done it? Had that been his way of repaying Daniel for the way the other man seemed to be cutting him out of _his_ life recently?

 

He'd felt somewhat...estranged from Daniel for a while now. It wasn't as if they'd had any fights or big disagreements; it was more like they had drifted apart for some reason, had even stopped working at that friendship thing they always used to work so hard at. It wasn't that Daniel's friendship had suddenly become less important to him, and he didn't think his friendship had become less important to Daniel. At least he hoped not. All he really knew is that something had gone wrong, and neither one of them had done anything to stop it. He had tried to talk to Daniel about his old professor and see how he was doing before he went off to Chicago and had done his best to sound Daniel out to see if he was okay. The unsettling part was a few months ago he wouldn't have had to 'sound him out' at all. He could have just talked to Daniel, and he would have known if he was okay. But something had slipped out of place between them. That was why he hadn't pressed him about the funeral or offered to go along; frankly, he didn't think he'd be welcome.

 

If Jack had to put a time stamp on when he stopped feeling welcome in Daniel's life, he wouldn't have to go any further than his own living room when he told the other man their friendship had no foundation. At the time, it was all he could think of to get him out of the house as fast as possible and try to keep him safe from Maybourne and his goons. He'd known it would stop Daniel in his tracks. He just didn't realize how well it would work or just how much damage he'd done to 'this friendship thing' they'd been working on. Or how many times since then his words would come back to taunt him.

 

He would give anything to have handled it differently, to not have put that awful look of hurt and desolation in Daniel's eyes - not to mention the wariness he sometimes saw there now when his friend looked at him. But it was too late to take back the words; an apology - plus several peace offerings of chocolate walnut cookies and Starbucks coffee - hadn't cut it. Something shifted in their relationship that day, and he hadn't been able to get it back to where it was in spite of everything he'd tried. He had been the picture of Mr. Patience when they'd found Sha're's kid with that monk, risking the whole team to give Daniel the time he asked for and even disarming everyone when Daniel said, 'trust me'. But even that wasn't enough. He didn't think Daniel saw that as the gigantic personal leap of faith it actually was - and not the first one he had made for him. If not for the fact he knew this all stemmed from words he'd said, words chosen deliberately to hurt, he would have felt aggrieved. Instead, all he felt was guilt.

 

As far as missions went, they still worked as a team as well as they ever did, and things were pretty much status quo: Daniel still ignored orders if he felt they were 'wrong', and they found themselves on the opposite ends of arguments more times than not. Since Daniel was right more times than he was wrong, O'Neill could live with that. What changed was how they related to each other off missions. They'd built themselves a nice little friendship over the years. In fact, Daniel was pretty much the best friend he'd ever had, and he'd come to rely on having that friendship in his life. But after the scene in his living room where he'd told Daniel their friendship wasn't worth crap, the man had backed away, and who could blame him? He'd gotten used to having Daniel come over to his place to watch sports (okay, Daniel read, he watched the game; the point was, he got very used to having him around the house), and he used to drop by Daniel's place as well, armed with videos and pizza to coax him away from his work for an evening. Daniel needed coaxing away from work, and he had somehow slid naturally into that role. He always found it kind of amazing two people as different as they were should enjoy each other's company so much.

 

But all that had changed. Daniel stopped coming over to his place and more often than not had an excuse when Jack suggested they go out for a movie or a game. Oh they still socialized, but now they usually did it as a team with Carter and Teal'c included. The fishing trip to Minnesota he'd just got back from was originally planned for the two of them. He'd been working on Daniel for weeks, and Daniel had finally agreed - albeit grudgingly - to accompany him. Jack figured they'd use the time to get their friendship back on track. Then Daniel's appendix burst. Then Thor showed up. Then Daniel's professor died. There just never seemed to be time. When Hammond gave them all time off, he decided to use the time to get away and unwind. Minnesota would still be there when Daniel got back from the funeral, and he figured if he talked him into the trip once he could do it again. Of course, hanging up on Daniel when he called probably wasn't the smartest move he could have made, as he'd been reminded by Teal'c's silence. Thinking of that brought him around again to the fact he'd been off fishing while Daniel, Carter and Fraiser had been fighting a Goa'uld in Egypt, and Daniel had been laid low, once again, by a ribbon device. As the car pulled to a stop in front of the hotel Jack wondered, not for the first time, how many times that boy could get his brains fried without something permanent happening to his grey matter. The very thought of the loss of that blazing intellect, not to mention the loss of the unique personality that was Daniel Jackson, made him shiver with a sudden chill even as a blast of Cairo heat hit him.

 

Those grim thoughts occupied his mind as he and Teal'c entered the hotel and went straight upstairs to the room number Carter had given them. He could still remember how Daniel looked after Amaunet got done with him and how worried Fraiser was as she ran all kinds of tests on him for brain damage. He quickened his pace as he spotted the door he was looking for. But Daniel was okay, he reminded himself firmly, raising his hand to knock. He'd had a long talk with Carter over the phone before they'd flown here, and she had assured him he was okay. Well, as okay as he could be after everything that happened to him, but he was walking and talking, and apparently no permanent damage was done.

 

His knuckles barely tapped the wood when the door flew open, and he was confronted with two sets of anxious eyes. "What?" he demanded immediately.

 

Carter's shoulders slumped a little, then she self-consciously straightened them again and bravely met his gaze. "Daniel's gone, sir."

 

"Gone? What do you mean --?"

 

"He was supposed to be resting." Fraiser's eyes were positively snapping. "We came to look in on him two hours ago, and he was gone."

 

"Did you check --?"

 

"At the front desk," Carter finished a little impatiently. "Yes, sir. No one saw him leave." She looked absolutely harassed, like the way someone would look after babysitting an unruly eight year old all day. "But I don't know how that could be, Colonel. We're certain he wasn't abducted." Fraiser nodded sharply. "There's no sign of a struggle. His door was locked, no sign of forced entry..." Her voice trailed off helplessly.

 

O'Neill gave each of them a long look, then shook his head at their naivete. Making a little shooing motion with his hand, he waved them inside. Once the door was closed behind them, he leaned against it and studied the two anxious/irritated faces of the officers. "Major, Doctor," he began politely, "we're in Egypt." They looked at each other, then back at him, waiting for him to explain his cryptic remark.

 

Taking pity on them, he glanced at Teal'c, who nodded and continued smoothly, "Daniel Jackson would be quite capable of leaving this hotel without being noticed if he so chose. As I understand, he not only spent much time here with his parents when he was a child but worked and studied here for some years when he was older. I believe he is quite familiar with this city, and he is both fluent in the language and well versed in the native ways of the population."

 

As realization dawned, fire snapped in Carter's eyes. "Are you telling us that Daniel --"

 

"Gave you the slip. Yes, Major, we are. He obviously wanted some down time on his own, and I'm assuming you two weren't giving him that." They both had the grace to look a little abashed, and he took that to mean they hadn't let the poor guy have two minutes to himself until he faked a nap. He pinned Fraiser with a piercing look. "Is he fit to be out on his own?" On the other hand, if he was out there running around Cairo when he should be in bed, he'd just let Carter and the doc at him when he finally came staggering back just to teach him a lesson.

 

"He was pretty much recovered as of this morning," Fraiser admitted grudgingly, but her eyes were still spitting. "He was still complaining of headaches, but all his vitals were normal."

 

Satisfied and relieved, Jack spread his arms. "Well then, kids, I suggest we sit back, relax, and wait for the prodigal to return." It wasn't that he wasn't worried about Daniel, because he was. But he also knew they didn't have a chance in hell of finding him Cairo if he didn't want to be found - and he obviously didn't. Besides which, Daniel was in his element here. Hell, he was probably safer in this town than they were. So they would do what the military was so good at - hurry up and wait. And he would hope his confidence in Daniel's skills wasn't misplaced.

 

***

 

The streets he walked through hadn't changed much since he was here last. Actually, they hadn't changed much in the last few hundred years. Sun baked, winding, narrow and teaming with humanity, they were as familiar and known to him as the military straight, pristine corridors of the SGC. Daniel got a few curious looks as he moved as one with the sea of people, the only fair-skinned person in this part of Cairo not on any tourist map, but no one bothered him. He had belonged here when he was a child and again when he was a young man working here, and a part of him felt like he belonged here still. In fact, there was a part of him that felt like he was coming home.

 

The sun beat down on his uncovered head which was pounding again, and his vision wasn't quite what it should be yet, but the periodic dizziness he hadn't admitted to Janet seemed to be gone, at least for now. It was probably a rash act of foolishness to be out wandering the back streets of Cairo alone the day after having his brain fried, but he just needed to get away by himself for a while. He needed to get away from everything that reminded him of the military and the Stargate and the Goa'uld. He couldn't stand having Sam and Janet hovering over him like anxious older sisters, and he couldn't stand lying there in that hotel room thinking about Sarah. Beautiful, brilliant, ambitious Sarah lost to the Goa'uld like so many others for thousands of years. He needed to get away, needed to get back to something more basic. As soon as he stepped out of the hotel, his feet seemed instinctively to know which direction to go.

 

He took a deep breath of Cairo air, drawing in the remembered scent. The smell of exotic spices filled the air, tickling his memory and causing his stomach to growl loudly. He'd missed lunch by faking a nap so he could slip out of the hotel, and now that his nausea was gone he realized he was famished. Seeing a street vendor along the side selling figs, he made his way through the crowd to the cramped stall. He used to be pretty good at this. The vendor eyed him warily and with some resignation, but when Daniel opened his mouth and began to speak, the man broke into a broad, toothless grin and entered into the bargaining with gusto. A few minutes later, both of them pleased with the price they had agreed on, Daniel walked away with a bag of figs.

 

Pulling one fig out of the bag, he bit into it, and as the sweet pulp filled his mouth, it brought back a sudden rush of memories. He'd eaten figs many times since leaving Egypt, but the combination of the fresh fruit, the busy streets, the smells and the sounds of old Cairo filled him with memories that were at once both sweet and sharply painful: sitting on his father's shoulders high above the crowd as the man bargained with street vendors just as he had; fearlessly exploring the nooks and crannies of the winding streets with his playmates, children of the men who worked on his parents' dig, his blond hair distinctive among their dark heads, his Arabic more fluent than his English; the sound of his mother's voice as she told him bedtime stories of ancient gods and wonderful mythological beings. With a pang of regret and guilt, he realized he hadn't thought of his parents in a while. As the years had gone by, he found it harder and harder to remember the sound of their voices, the way his mother's face would light up when she saw him, his father's sure grip as he swung him onto his shoulders. It was easier to remember here in Egypt, and that was at once both comforting and painful.

 

He'd munched halfway through the figs when he finally came to his destination. He stood for a moment outside the tiny, ancient abode, letting the wave of memories wash gently against him. Then he reached out and knocked on the wooden door. He heard movement inside, then the door opened, and he found himself staring into the face of the man he had come to see. Yussuf still carried himself as proudly erect as he did when he was a young man on his parents' digs. Much later, when he was _reis_ on Daniel's own digs there had been traces of grey in his hair and beard. Now there was more grey than black, but his dark gaze was bright and alert as it swept over him. In many ways the man reminded him of Kasuf: shrewd, honest, fair, and a man of honor.

 

Daniel bowed and murmured the traditional greeting. Like Kasuf, Yussuf cherished the old ways. It took a moment, but suddenly Yussuf gasped, "Young doctor!" and grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him into a tight embrace. Daniel felt laughter bubble up inside him. When he was a child running wild over his parents' digs, proudly digging up his own 'artifacts', 'young doctor' was Yussuf's affectionate name for him. Many years later when Daniel was directing his own digs, Yussuf called him that as a mark of respect. "Inside! Inside!" The older man pulled him out of the sun and into his home, calling for his wife, Fatima, all the while holding Daniel at arms' length and taking inventory with those sharp, intelligent eyes which missed nothing. He was much too polite to ask why Daniel had shown up out of the blue after all these years or about the angry redness that covered his forehead and nose, thanks to the prolonged exposure to Osiris' ribbon device, but the questions were in his eyes.

 

"Young doctor!" He barely had time to acknowledge Fatima before she engulfed him in the kind of embrace usually only bestowed by a grandmother. She was a large woman with a generous heart, and many were the times she had patched Daniel's cuts and scapes from a dig and fed him at her table. She was so flustered by his surprise visit she nearly forgot to offer him coffee and refreshment, an unforgivable breach of hospitality. But soon they were settled in the small, immaculate sitting room drinking strong, flavored coffee, and Yussuf and Fatima were beaming at him with curious expectation.

 

"You are not well, young doctor," Yussuf commented, his brows furrowed in a concerned frown.

 

"You have not been taking care of yourself," Fatima added more sternly. "Have you not found a wife yet to look after you?"

 

"Woman," hissed Yussuf, "this is not our business."

 

Daniel smiled at Fatima, glad to find she was as plain spoken as he remembered her. "I had a wife," he explained softly, "but she is dead." Fatima's hand flew to her mouth, and she made a sound that was half gasp, half moan. Yussuf murmured something under his breath, then reached out and touched his shoulder.

 

"We were very happy in the time we were together."

 

They both nodded their understanding, but it was obvious they were stunned and grieving for his loss. He closed his eyes for a moment and let the familiarity of the place settle over him like a gentle blanket. He'd spent so many evenings here with these good people, accepted as part of their family. Things had been so different before...

 

A hand on his arm brought him out of his reverie, and he opened his eyes to find Fatima watching him worriedly.

 

He smiled in reassurance. "I'm only in Cairo for a short time." He paused, then added apologetically, "I'm afraid I can't stay for long or tell you much of what I've been doing."

 

Anyone else would have asked him why he came if this were the case, but Yussuf was watching him with perceptive, comprehensive eyes and merely nodded. "Tell what you wish, young doctor."

 

What did he wish? He wanted to forget his life for a little while. He wanted to forget about the Goa'uld and the Stargate and the heartache. For a while he just wanted to be Daniel Jackson, Egyptologist, back in the world he knew and loved as a child and as a young, wide-eyed archaeologist. "Tell me about the digs you've been on," he asked quietly and hoped Yussuf understood.

 

He did.

 

 

Daniel smiled to himself as he made his way back to the hotel through the streets no longer crowded. There was no way he could have refused the first cup of strong, caffeine-laden coffee from Fatima without causing grave insult, but that was no excuse for all the others that followed. Janet was going to kill him...if the headache didn't kill him first.

 

But it was worth it. Despite the headache he felt...like he'd rediscovered a part of him he'd lost for a while. After listening raptly to Yussuf's stories of the digs he'd been on in the last few years, the old man insisted on taking him to some dealers where he could see some of these treasures for himself. Daniel hadn't hesitated. They spent the afternoon visiting dealers in antiquities, some of whom remembered Daniel, much to his surprise. Then he realized it really hadn't been that long ago when he was a fixture around here, fitting in as comfortably as a native; it just seemed like a lifetime ago. So with some amusement he allowed those who recognized him to carefully edge him away from certain displays in the hope he wouldn't spot the fakes they had sitting alongside the genuine items.

 

He conversed with the dealers and inspected the artifacts with pleasure. It felt good to handle these things again: jars and tools used by ancient Egyptians in their everyday lives; necklaces of faience and stone; ivory cosmetic spoons; flint knives; scraps of parchment with faded Hieratic that he could read as easily as other men could read their morning paper. He had handled treasures from other worlds that none of these people could have imagined, but none of that matched the thrill of holding these items in his hands. This had been his dream from the time he was a little boy. It had never lost its excitement or its wonder. These things were untainted by the Goa'uld, and he reveled in that knowledge as he reveled in the feel of the articles in his hands.

 

After an afternoon of wandering around the dealers shops, Yussuf had taken him back to Fatima where she plied him with more coffee and sweet bread before bidding him a tearful farewell.

 

It was dark when he finally reached the hotel. He paused for a moment outside and resisted the urge to turn and wave at Abdullah, Yussuf's youngest son, a strong young man in his twenties. He wasn't supposed to know Yussuf had sent him along to shadow Daniel on his trip back to make sure he reached his destination safely. Much like the way the boys on Abydos had followed him on Sha're's orders when he went out exploring. As the Egyptian night closed in, he thought of the nights he'd spent in the desert both here and on Abydos. The desert was a part of him; he could feel his soul cry out to it even now, could feel himself being drawn to it, could feel the deepest part of himself seeking out its solitude and solace. With an effort, he tore himself away and forced himself to push open the door to the hotel and step inside, leaving the night and the siren call of the desert behind.

 

He was a little surprised not to find Sam and Janet waiting for him with a pair of restraints, but he decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, they had probably arranged an ambush in his room. There was no need for stealth now, so he took the elevator up to his floor and walked down the hallway to his room. Fitting the key into the lock, he took a deep breath, then opened the door with the air of man about to face a firing squad - or two very pissed off women who knew how to use big guns. To his surprise and relief, the room was dark. He couldn't believe they went all that time without checking on him, but perhaps they really did think he was asleep.

 

His feeling of smugness lasted until he turned on the light.

 

"Hey."

 

So startled was he to see Jack sitting there in the one chair in the room that he nearly dropped his key. "Jack?" With an effort he gathered his wits and closed the door behind him, placing the key with great deliberation on the bureau. Jack was without a doubt the last person he expected to see here. Although he should have known better. By now Sam would have made a full report back to Hammond, and Hammond would have notified Jack, unless Jack had hung up on him too. "What are you doing here?" He managed to keep his voice level even though he was struggling with a tangle of emotions. Surprise, dismay, anger, relief and curiosity all swept through him and refused to settle into any kind of order of importance. Was he more angry than surprised that Jack was here? Or more dismayed than curious? Or had he known somehow this was to be his inevitable fate for running off to fight a Goa'uld without Jack leading the way?

 

Jack got easily to his feet, stretching as if to ease cramped muscles, and Daniel was aware of the other man's gaze on him, no doubt taking in the burn on his face. "Teal'c and I came over after Hammond sent someone to tell us what happened."

 

Daniel slid him a sideways look as he took off his jacket. "Hammond sent someone? What's the matter? Phone not working?" He was just pissy enough at the moment to note with satisfaction the grimace flickering across Jack's face.

 

"Something like that." There was a pause, and then Jack cleared his throat. "Where've you been?"

 

Knowing Jack as he did, it was blindingly obvious to Daniel he had tried hard not to make it sound like an interrogation or indictment, but his head was pounding unmercifully, and Daniel was in no mood to play games, especially with Jack. "I needed to get away for a while," he answered shortly, knowing that wasn't going to satisfy him but not really caring at this point.

 

Jack gave him a level look. "I think Carter and Fraiser would have understood - if you'd told them."

 

Daniel felt a stab of guilt at the reminder. Sam wasn't just his team mate, and Janet wasn't just his doctor: they were his friends too. He silently promised them both a groveling apology while replying somewhat impatiently, "No, I don’t think they would. And they certainly wouldn't have let me go out alone - which was the whole point."

 

Jack dropped back into the padded chair, lacing his fingers behind his neck and stretching out his legs. He was obviously planning on staying awhile. "No, you're probably right," he agreed amiably. "But it still wasn't a very nice thing to do to them."

 

Daniel's shoulders slumped, and he brought up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. If he didn't sit down soon… "I'll apologize in the morning," he mumbled. In the next instant he realized Jack's hand was on his arm, and he was being steered over to the bed. He hadn't even heard Jack cross the room. How did the man _do_ that?

 

"Sit down before you fall down," came the gentle order.

 

He dropped down onto the bed gratefully, trying not to whimper as the movement set up new flares of pain behind his eyes.

 

"How bad is it?"

 

"Post ribbon-device headache and too much coffee," he mumbled. He looked up at Jack, who was frowning down at him in concern. "Don't tell Janet, okay?"

 

The other man seemed to struggle with a decision, then gave a little sigh of frustration. "Lie down, and I'll get you some aspirin. If you're not better in an hour, I'm calling her in."

 

Daniel knew that was the best deal he could hope to get under the circumstances. "Okay," he agreed, and laid down carefully, closing his eyes to block out the light. As he laid there he heard Jack moving around the room, dimming the lights, retrieving some bottled water and aspirin, and generally doing what he was so good at - taking care of a member of his team. Being there when he was needed. Why had he thought that had changed? Why had he thought anything had changed between them really? Did he care any less for Jack than he always had? He'd been royally pissed, not to mention deeply hurt, when Jack hadn't trusted him enough to bring him into the Asgard undercover operation, but he had grudgingly admitted Jack only had his safety in mind - just like he always did. The bottom line was, Jack was still the best friend he'd ever had and was still the man he turned to and trusted more than anyone else. He hoped like hell the foundation of their friendship _was_ still solid.

 

"Here you go." He accepted the water and aspirin gratefully, then lay back down. "Close your eyes." Without question he did so and felt a cool, damp cloth draped across his eyes. "Better?"

 

He let out a little sigh of relief. "Yeah, thanks." He heard the creak of plastic as Jack settled back in the chair.

 

"You want to talk about it?"

 

Daniel wondered what Jack was referring to. Professor Jordan? Sarah? Where he spent the afternoon? Or why it had been so long since they'd had a real conversation where one of them could ask a question like that?

 

He was silent for a long time, then began speaking. "When I said I needed to get away, I meant I _really_ needed to get away. Away from everything that had to do with the Stargate or the Goa'uld. I wanted to forget all that for a little while. I just wanted to be Daniel Jackson, Doctor of Archaeology. Not Daniel Jackson, member of SG1, Alien Culture Expert of the SGC, the man who lost his wife to an alien parasite, the man who lived on another planet for a year, peaceful explorer of the galaxy who also happens to carry a gun." Things he wouldn't have dreamed of saying out loud only a short time ago came pouring out.

 

"So I went to visit an old friend, and we talked about archaeology and Egypt and the digs he'd been on and the digs we'd been on together. And when I left, he told me I was 'more of my mother each time he saw me.' I needed someone to tell me that. I needed to remember who I was and where I came from." Daniel felt relief at finally getting all that out, at touching the sore spot inside him and identifying it, but he wasn't sure what kind of reaction Jack would have.

 

"Did it help?"

 

Daniel mulled that over before answering. "For a while. It felt good to be…just me. Just someone who loved Egypt and could look at an artifact without wondering if it was a Goa'uld device." He realized suddenly he sounded weary and a little depressed, not to mention sorry for himself.

 

"I didn't know it had gotten so bad."

 

Jack's voice sounded so strange Daniel pulled off the cloth over his eyes and turned his head on the pillow to look at him. Even in the muted light, he could see mixture of regret and guilt on Jack's face. Daniel himself hadn't known things had gotten this bad; how on earth was Jack supposed to know? Things hadn't been entirely smooth for them over the last couple of months, but Daniel was reminded all over again that Jack took his responsibilities seriously - both as C.O. and as friend. His friendship with Jack was like a living, breathing entity, always changing, always growing, and sometimes surprising him with its intensity. He supposed the degree of hurt he felt over Jack's words about the foundation of their friendship was a mark of how much he treasured it. He felt a surge of affection for this man who could exasperate him like no other, but who had become such an important part of his life.

 

"It was just a lot of things happening at once," Daniel told him, determined not to let him take any blame. "Going back for Professor Jordan's funeral, seeing Steven and Sarah again, being back in the academic community, then coming back here to Egypt…it brought back a lot of memories. Some of them bad, but a lot of them good. I just…" He broke off for a moment, unsure how to phrase his question. "Jack, don't you ever just want to stop being a soldier sometimes and just… _be_? No worrying about the team or if the next planet you set foot on is going to be inhabited by a system lord, no reason to carry a gun…?"

 

Jack gave him a straight look and said very carefully, "Of course I do, Daniel. That's why the USAF invented down time. Which people are not supposed to spend holed away in their labs working on translations until all hours of the night."

 

Daniel chose to retreat behind the cloth over his eyes again.

 

"Maybe this would be a good time to take a little of that down time."

 

Jack's tone was thoughtful, as if he were thinking out loud. "You mean, stay here for a while? In Egypt?" Daniel could feel his heartbeat increase and spirits rise with just the suggestion.

 

"Sure, why not?"

 

"That would be…that would be great, Jack," Daniel managed, gratitude filling his voice.

 

"Okay, then, I'll fix it with Hammond." Of course he would. Jack could fix anything. "Of course, we can't let you stay here alone you know. Security and all that."

 

Daniel stifled his sigh. He should have known. They'd probably have a SF trotting along after him and calling him 'sir' all the time.

 

"You know, I've never seen the pyramids." Jack let that innocuous statement hang there, and it took a moment for Daniel to realize what he'd just said.

 

He tore off the cloth and sat up, headache forgotten for the moment, and stared at Jack. "You mean you want to stay with me?"

 

Jack's face gave nothing away. "You want me to stay with you?"

 

"Only if you want to stay."

 

"I only want to stay if you want me to."

 

Daniel gritted his teeth. "Jack."

 

"Daniel."

 

He gave the other man a dark look and lay back down, deliberately placing the cloth over his eyes again. "You're being intentionally provocative."

 

"I learned from the best."

 

"I'm going to tell Teal'c you said that."

 

"I wasn't talking about Teal'c, and you know it. I'm going to tell Fraiser you had coffee."

 

Daniel suddenly felt the part of himself inside which had been raw and bleeding begin to heal. Earlier he had felt like he had 'come home' to Egypt. But he realized he was already home. He missed Egypt and Abydos and the life he'd had before, but the only way to get that life back was to give up the one he had now. That wasn't an option he would consider. "You've never seen the pyramids? I guess that means you've never been to Karnak or Luxor either?"

 

"I've never even _heard_ of Karnak or Luxor."

 

"I suppose you're going to moan and complain the whole time and talk about how nice it would be in Minnesota instead?"

 

"Probably."

 

Daniel let the silence stand for a moment. "Okay, as long as we've got that straight."

 

There was the creak of plastic again, and he felt a light pat on his knee as Jack walked by. "Get some sleep. I'll let Carter and the doc know you're back, and try to keep 'em away until tomorrow morning."

 

He listened to the sound of Jack's soft footfalls as he walked across the room. As he heard the doorknob turn, he once again pulled off the cloth over his eyes. "Jack?"

 

The other man turned, one hand on the doorknob and waited. It wasn't Daniel's imagination: Jack looked more relaxed than Daniel had seen him in a while, and he could just make out the humor and affection in his dark eyes. "Yeah?"

 

Daniel grinned, then lay back down. "You're going to love the Great Pyramid. Just think…two million rocks…all in one place."

 

He heard a stifled snort. "Laugh it up, rock boy. Next downtime we get, there's a fishing pole in Minnesota with your name on it."

 

"More like a swarm of mosquitoes," he murmured, but Jack was already out the door. Next downtime they got...sounded like Jack was already making plans. He closed his eyes, feeling a pleasant warmth gently fill the ache in his soul. There was nothing wrong in mourning the life he'd lost, providing he remembered to cherish the life he'd found.

 

Two million rocks in exchange for about the same number of mosquitoes. Daniel smiled to himself as he settled in for the night. Sounded like a fair trade to him.

 

**_end_ **

 


End file.
